The bibis were by no means loath to display their ornaments: chains and head-jewels of marvellous make, rings for thumbs and sheaths for toes, nose-gems and ear-gems, and jingling anklets, bracelets of gold, silver, and glass, were eagerly thrust on the visitor’s notice. But in vain did Alicia’s anxious eyes search for a black locket amongst them.
“All, all,” she repeated—“show me all.”
At length the bibis were tired of displaying their treasures; the Mem Sahiba seemed to have an unreasonable avidity for seeing jewels. Alicia, heated and tired, began to despair of ever finding what she had come expressly to see. Some of the women had gone away, Chanel Kor had taken to her hookah, and Alicia was about to rise and depart, when Darobti opened a curious old box to take out betel to chew—a very common custom amongst Eastern bibis. At the bottom of the box lay what looked like a dirty bit of rag, but Alicia’s quick eye detected in that rag something of European manufacture.
“What’s that?” asked the lady, pointing to the rag.
The question did not appear to be understood; at any rate it received no reply. Alicia put out her own jewelled hand, and to Darobti’s surprise pulled the dirty thing out of the box. It was part of a child’s sock, and out of it something dropped on the floor. Alicia could not repress an exclamation of surprise and delight: it was indeed a black locket in the shape of a heart!
Darobti stooped to pick it up; but the eager lady was quicker than she. Alicia was breathless with excitement; she actually held in her hand the two things that might prove to others the fact of which she had now not the slightest doubt—that Premi was her own cousin. “I have you, and I’ll keep you,” thought Alicia, after hastily ascertaining that there was an inscription on the locket, and initials marked in red thread on the sock.
“Give that back!” cried Darobti.
Alicia clenched her prize tightly in her left hand, then with her right unfastened her own silver brooch, and held it out to Darobti. “Exchange, exchange,” said the lady.
Alicia’s very eagerness was the thing to defeat her own object. Her anxiety awoke in the Hindus both suspicion and that spirit of covetousness which has such power over the Oriental. Why should the Mem desire that little black charm? There must be witchcraft.
“It’s a spell to make us all Karanis” (Christians) said Darobti. “I’d rather throw the black thing down the well than let it get into the hands of a Feringhi” (European).[[7]]